Pocketful of Sunshine
by Adreus
Summary: After an encounter with a strange duelist in a storm, Kaito finds himself at the nice, reasonable height of five inches tall. And all he wanted to do was get Haruto the caramel he asked for... Ahh, what a headache. —Kaito, Ryoga, Yuma.
1. Chapter 1

It is my best friend's birthday and so I have written her a Thing. It is a multi-chaptered Thing, and it is a strange Thing so I suggest you suspend your disbelief when it comes to certain parts of it, but other than that... For your pleasure, the misadventure of shrunk!Kaito and his two amused boyfriends. c:

Time frame is after ZEXAL I but before ZEXAL II.

* * *

_Pocketful of Sunshine_

1

* * *

Caramel, Kaito finds out, is getting expensive.

So, okay, fine: it's been sometime since he's gone out to buy it and he's got a few reasons why—he has a huge stash that's lasted him months, it's never really occurred to him how much Haruto likes it before, he's been preoccupied with health issues—so maybe he's missing something, but as far as he's concerned, it's, like, a piece of candy, no processing or nuts or anything, just a tiny cubic morsel of caramel, so honestly, why is it so hard to find it in grocery stores now, why has the price doubled since the last time he went out to buy it?

Kaito didn't really know what to expect when Haruto—swamped under blankets and being force fed soup by Gauche (who's apparently one of Haruto's friends now, and when that happened Kaito has no idea)—beckoned him closer and said, "Niisan, I have a mission for you!" but Kaito didn't expect it to be so _hard_. Because, hey, he's done all sorts of things for Haruto before, from stealing peoples' souls to collecting Numbers to unclogging toilets at two in the morning, and it's not like he was ever going to say _no_, but, _come on—_

Presently, Kaito glares at the translucent bag of caramel cubes sitting innocently on the cashier's scale, weighing in at a decently hefty price. It's been raining outside and Kaito's hair is wet and he's certain he looks a total mess from running around five different stores to find the coveted candy, so he's not in the mood for this anymore, wasn't really in the mood to begin with, and it would be fantastic if the girl at the counter would stop staring at his hair and blowing big, obnoxious bubbles with her hour over-chewed gum and just let him sulk in peace, because, hey, it's not even like there's a line behind him. The entire store is empty save for the two of them and closing isn't for a few more hours.

But she's cruel and she doesn't let him brood no matter how hard he wills it that way: He's still scrutinizing the numbers on the scale like if he stares at them long enough they'll get scared of him and shrink when she prompts the unwelcomed, "Sir, are you going to—"

"Shut up," Kaito snaps, but he pulls out his wallet anyway, stares sullenly at the money inside. He sighs, takes out two bills, slaps them on the counter, snatches the bag, and stalks out, realizing a minute too late that he didn't wait for his change and then being too proud to turn around and ask for it back, financial insecurity be damned. Well, whatever; it saves him the twenty seconds of awkwardly fumbling around with the few stupid coins, so he pushes the door with his arm and the bells above it merrily announce his departure. He grumbles angrily in response, at them and at the thunder that groans on the dark, wet street, and so maybe Kaito finds himself wishing that he'd brought Orbital with him, because a motorcycle ride in traffic or a glider through a storm sounds a lot more preferable in a storm such as this one, and, seriously, what stupid part of the him from two hours ago thought it was a good idea to walk? He sure as hell isn't about to do that _now_, so Kaito pulls out his D-Pad, summons his servant, and after receiving a salute and a promise of five minutes, he waits.

He waits, leans against the wall of the store and looks at the bag in his hand, considering it thoughtfully. _Well_, _mission accomplished_, he thinks, and it only took him two hours and quite possibly the acquisition of a cold to get here, but hey, with his immune system, if Haruto's got something, he's bound to catch it sooner or later anyway, no matter how out of the blue Haruto's fever seems to have risen.

Actually, Kaito thinks, popping in one of the caramel pieces, it's a little weird, because there are several harbingers to Haruto's getting sick, and none of them have made an appearance so far—if he didn't know his brother better than that, Kaito would almost suspect Haruto of faking it, the way he remembers Yuma's sister saying Yuma used to do when he was younger and didn't want to go to school. But Haruto has no reason to fake being sick, doesn't even _go _to school, and certainly doesn't need a fever if he wants extra attention from his brother, so the idea doesn't add up and Kaito shakes the thought free of his head, a little disappointed in himself for even thinking about it, and he pops in another caramel—is it just him, or are they made sweeter now?—and he waits some more.

The rain continues to fall and a few cars pass him by, and Kaito taps his feet idly to a song insistent on looping in his head, something that he doesn't actually remember the words to but can recall Yuma's constant singing of it, and Kaito waits.

And he waits.

And—

"Orbital!" Kaito shouts into the D-Tech a solid twenty minutes later, and, okay, so he would probably be a lot more intimidating if it weren't followed up by a sneeze. "Do I need to reset the time in your brain? Do you know how long I've been out here?"

On the other end of the line, there's a robot's equivalent of a panicked squeak. "N-No, Kaito-sama!" Orbital ekes out, stumbling over his words and his processing, and _seriously_, what the hell kind of a robot _is _he? Kaito arches his eyebrows and stares Orbital down virtually, an intimidation technique which seems to be satisfactory, as Orbital grows jumpier and nods vigorously, salutes his master, apologizing profusely and insisting that he'll be there in two minutes and that he's just having difficulty pinpointing where Kaito is because of the storm. Kaito rolls his eyes and conveys his location manually, to which Orbital gives another round of stupid vigorous nodding. Kaito can feel a headache coming on now to couple with the cold that's settling into his shoulders, and he pinches his nose now, trying to think of a menacing enough threat to attach to "If you're not here in five minutes, I'll _" when there's malignant laughter from behind him. Kaito drops the call and turns swiftly to face the stranger, eyes glaring and nostrils flaring, bag of caramel held protectively in his grasp and body tensing up for a fight with someone that's snuck up on him.

"Hey," says the newcomer, a tall figure that Kaito guesses is a man through the overbearing challenge in their voice, though there's something digital about it — either the stranger's a hologram or his voice is fake and run through a synthesizer. Whatever the case, when coupled with the guy's attire—a dumb old fedora, a long, dirty jacket, and a mask work together to effectively obscure his entire body—the voice doesn't help to alleviate the stranger's suspiciousness at all.

"And who the hell are you?" Kaito demands, but he gets no useful answer—only more laughter.

"Tenjo Kaito, right?" the stranger says then, a grin in his tone, and Kaito scowls, because, fine, it's not weird for people to know his name now because of the WDC, it wasn't that weird for shady circles to know it before because he was the Numbers Hunter, but it _is _starting to get annoying to be known and to be identified, whether it's by a fangirl in the mall or a wannabe-gangster in an alleyway, and he'd really prefer to melt into the background and not be noticed or challenged, because, hey, it might be a shocker, but even now, he doesn't really duel for sport.

When the lightning flashes and the stranger in front of him is laughing and holding out a duel disk provokingly, Kaito is really not in the mood to pick up the gauntlet.

One hand to his waist, Kaito raises his eyebrows, says, "Like hell," and turns on his heel. "You hide behind a mask when you're so desperate to duel me? How cowardly," he speaks with his back to the stranger, and he doesn't wait for any sort of response, just walks off into the rain, pissed that his spot's been compromised but whatever, his ride'll be here soon enough—

"Oh, no you don't, you brat!"

—except that then there's a yell from behind and a tug at his right arm and when he looks down he's surprised to find a bright red duel anchor curled around his wrist, fading into invisibility.

Ah.

Photon mode it is, then.

It's all muscle memory from here — he doesn't even bother to ask the stranger's name, because he seriously doubts he'll get it before he wins anyway, so it's just them and the storm and the duel. He's fought dozens of goons before; most of them go down with the same simple strategies, so Kaito plays with the usual vigor and, yeah, despite his extravagant attempts at being anonymous, the opponent isn't particularly impressive. It's not so much the deck as it is the playing style; the guy takes too much time to think of his moves and then does something so stupid he might as well be losing on purpose.

Kaito deals two thousand damage on his second turn's battle phase and summons Galaxy-Eyes on main phase two. His opponent sets one monster and tentatively places a face-down, then it's Kaito's turn again; he attacks the set monster with Galaxy Knight, and it promptly disappears in a shimmer of sparks—so the lone face-down left on the opposite side of the field, Kaito decides, is a fake: a spell card.

"Any last words?" Kaito prompts, but that's pretty much out of impulse, too, and he doesn't wait for them. "Go, Galaxy-Eyes! Attack directly with Photon Stream of Destruction!"

"Quick-play spell!" The stranger shouts in response, and the lone card on his field activates, revealing the tell-tale green card and the lightning bolt symbol that could turn it all around. "Shrink!"

Kaito's ready for it—he set his own quick-play two turns ago: Forbidden Lance targets Galaxy-Eyes and subtracts 800 attack points, but it means the monster can't be targeted by any other spell or traps this turn, and the attack should still go through and finish the stranger off—

—His opponent laughs.

Kaito narrows his eyes. "What's so funny?"

"Who," the stranger says, pressing a button on his D-Pad, "said I'm targeting the dragon?"

Kaito doesn't have time to react before there's a flash of light and the card is activated, its effect successfully resolved as the power flows right past Galaxy-Eyes and straight into Kaito himself—who, unprepared, is slammed backwards and into the pavement, and what the _hell_, did he just get targeted by Shrink, how the hell does that even _work_—and then Kaito realizes it does work. It is working, because as he opens his eyes and starts to get back up from the ground, the world is acting strangely, the sky is getting larger and the rain is getting harder and the sounds are getting louder and—holy _crap_, he's getting _smaller_. Photon mode dissipates, the AR link is broken, his D-Pad displays an error screen for about a second before blacking out, completely shot.

And Kaito wobbles to his knees, six inches tall.


	2. Chapter 2

_Pocketful of Sunshine_

2

* * *

Kaito has been called short before, and, yeah, he's felt short before, too, but his height has never been all that big a deal to him. Sure, sometimes it might be nice to have a few extra inches, but Kaito's not one to whine or feel insecure about it, because, you know what, whatever, he's not about to join a basketball team, and being intimidating (or, fine, even attractive) usually comes from a person's skill and intellect, not their stature.

But that doesn't mean Kaito lacks standards, and standing five inches off the ground, Kaito could really use a growth spurt.

It doesn't make _sense—_he's heard of spiriters before, of people who can speak to their cards and see them around, and he's even heard legends of people who can make their spirits tangible, but he's never seen or heard of a spell card actually affecting a duelist like this—that's _definitely _not a tournament legal move. Kaito lets out a stream of curses and ducks back under the roof of the candy store to escape the rain and the storm, because at this size the wind might be a threat. There, he checks himself and all his belongings—it looks like everything on his person has shrunk with him, including his cards and the caramel.

Kaito tries to put the events back together again.

Whoever that guy was, he's disappeared now, probably fled the moment he saw that his gambit worked, and Kaito doesn't even have a name or a face or an allegiance to get angry at—except for maybe Orbital for being a useless, the late piece of junk, and now Kaito can't even contact _him_ because all his D-Tech is out of commission. What Kaito's seriously concerned about is what anyone gains from his being turned small; sure, there are plenty of people out there whom it would please to know that something's made Kaito discontent, but what's the motivation behind this in particular, how did the stranger know where he was, where did they get the duel anchor and the power to do what they did?

Just… really, who _was _that?

A gust of wind blows straight into him and Kaito flies back into the wall of the store, shivers, and sneezes; okay, thinking about the culprit isn't important right now—now that there's zero chance of his location being pinpointed, Kaito is on his own, and he needs to get home before he dies of a cold or being cold or, now, maybe even being stepped on.

The only thing is… where is he, in relation to home?

Kaito glances upward; the remnants of Heartland Tower scrape the city skyline, but it's always like that, no matter where you're in Heartland—Kaito figured that out a while ago, used to use it as a constant reminder because _Haruto's up there, Haruto's not well, you're doing this for him. _

But seeing the Tower from the ground isn't as useful as spotting it from the air; there are no straight lines to travel in here.

And, okay, fine, he knows he's on the outskirts of the main city, but generally Kaito's mental map is a skyview; his travel by road is pretty rare, and when it _does_ happen, he decides, looking around at the residential buildings all around the street, it's definitely not here. He tries to retrace his steps: think, Kaito, what turns did you take when you were running around to and from different stores? What order did you go to them in? But even as the rain begins to slow nothing really helps, and his surroundings being so much larger than they should be is disorienting, so Kaito growls and closes his eyes and massages his temples, and tries to concentrate.

Where is he...? Where is he? Beyond that end of the street there's—no—beyond the other side—no—shoot. Kaito shakes himself and closes his eyes again, watches a few cars go by, inherently annoyed by the fact that they exist and that they're passing him but they can't be of use to him. He wonders somewhat foolishly if by serendipity a car might pass that he'll recognize, and maybe he can follow it home or something, and like some sort of cosmic miracle, that's when it happens – that's when he sees a motorcycle with familiar colors and maybe even a familiar rider coming down the street, and he stares it, not believing his eyes—but, no, he's definitely right – ridiculous timing and ridiculous motorcycle alike, that's _Ryoga_.

That's Ryoga and that's Ryoga's bike, and so maybe there's no way he'll catch up to it if he runs, but Kaito takes to sprinting anyway, not of his own accord at first, but then he starts to think that maybe Ryoga'll stop at a light or something, maybe Kaito can—what, hitch a ride or something? Kaito pauses in his thought process; no, he's not going to approach Ryoga like this, but maybe he can follow him, and after all, Kaito does know where Ryoga lives with respect to the tower, so if Ryoga's headed home—or even if he isn't right now and Kaito just tales him for longer—

—Kaito's hopes are shattered when instead of going straight Ryoga turns a corner, travels out of Kaito's line of vision. Kaito'd try to sprint faster and turn the corner with him, but Kaito's far too behind and more than a little out of breath, faced with an exhausting that can be attributed not to a lack of stamina or a slow speed but to a ridiculous distance for so small a body. In retrospect, he doesn't know what he was thinking when he saw Ryoga and thought to run after him—where did he get the idea that a meerkat could keep up with a motorcycle?

He wants to kick a rock or something, anything to alleviate his irritation the tiniest notch, but all the rocks are probably his size, and the only things to throw are his D-Tech or the caramel that's brought him here in the first place, so Kaito holds in his frustration as best he can, stiffly walks the rest of the distance, his hands balled into fists. The clouds are starting to clear by now, but the day is starting to fade, too, and though Heartland is sufficiently lit in the evening, he figures it's probably better he get inside somewhere—anywhere—before night falls, before he's eaten by an owl or something.

Eventually, Kaito reaches the corner, and with a start he realizes that Ryoga's motorcycle probably isn't as far off from him as he thought—because this, Kaito recalls, staring up at the hedges of a familiar household, is the street that Yuma lives on, and that motorcycle sticking out of the garage a few feet down is Ryoga's, and the house in front of which he's standing? Well, it's… Yuma's…

Kaito looks to the sky again – it's a mélange of painted oranges and purples, and he may know the way home from here, but he also knows it'll take a hell of a long time to get there, so… really, what choice does he have?

…Besides. Maybe Yuma—or Ryoga—knows something about the mysterious man who's done this to him.

Kaito nods once, making up his mind, and he heads to Yuma's house. He's been there a few times before—once or twice with Haruto when Yuma invited them for dinner or when Yuma ran into them on the street and dragged them over because Kaito, you have to see this, or Haruto, you have to try that—and… well, there's this feel about the Tsukumo household, a warmth that he suspects homes are _supposed _to emanate—his current one doesn't yet, no matter how hard they're trying—and there's just this sense of happiness that hangs comfortably in the air even with the absence of Yuma's parents.

It's… nice. Yuma's excitability can be tiring, but Kaito thinks that the most relaxing place in the world might just be Yuma's rooftop, the stars glinting gently and the air warm and light and the best of unlikely companions beside him.

He's not… thinking clearly, is he, something he can quickly attribute to any thoughts having to do with Yuma, because whenever it comes to the boy in question or his friends or his home… well, thoughts tend to wander this way and that, embarrassing little ideas that are too affectionate or light or hopeful—

Kaito's thoughts are excusably interrupted when he reaches the stairs, because, he realizes for the first time, the Tsukumo house apparently has those. He never really noticed this before, did he, the fact that Yuma's house is on a raised platform, that there are steps he needs to take to get to the right elevation and then a length of space he needs to cross to get to the door. He looks up at the offending stone steps now, distraught at the height he'll need to scale, and Kaito purses his lips. Thinks for a moment. Stares down at his empty palm, and feels the beginnings of an idea forming.

Then Kaito walks up to the first step and casts his duel anchor. Tests to see how steady it is, if this will actually work—then reels himself in, hoists himself up, and… hey, what d'you know, he's one step closer to the top. He coughs a little, stands up again, inhales, exhales, and looks behind him before looking at the distance he's still got to travel. There's … well, this is going to take some time, but he'll just have to suck it up and manage. He's done that before, too; all he really has to do is command himself to not be tired, because there'll be plenty of time for that later, when he's back to normal and when he's on his futon, when his eyes are closed and the world is silent, when the only thing he needs to bother worrying about is his own heartbeat. So Kaito climbs—and he climbs, and he climbs, and eventually, he reaches the top, bends over with his hands on his knees, and glares at the distance between here and Yuma's front door.

He narrows his eyes, grits his teeth, thinks, _you know what, screw it_, and despite his better judgment Kaito sprints the entire length, ignores the searing pain in his lungs and his legs and falls to the ground in front of the door when he gets there, clutching his stomach and catching his breath and his lungs are on _fire _and his stomach might empty itself right here and now, and then Kaito contorts his face in anger because he is literally _sick _of this, and he glares at the door, every intention of busting it open—

—That. Probably won't work, huh.

He is. Going to need an alternative way to get inside.

Kaito growls in frustration and surveys his surroundings. He knows for a fact that Yuma's window is usually open—he's used it more than once to make his departure at odd hours in the night, when he's stayed longer than he expected to and refused to agree to a sleepover—but it's probably harder to get up there than it is to somehow climb up to the doorbell, and Kaito doesn't know how much stamina he has left. He furrows his brow and tries to think, tries to remember the blueprints of Yuma's house, where there are windows and whether they'll be open or not—there's one in the kitchen, he remembers, but it's usually closed, and he thinks there's another one by the—

As Kaito thinks, the door creaks open and the looming figure of Kamishiro Ryoga steps into the dark. Kaito's caught off-guard and stares up at him, wondering if Ryoga's really leaving already— he usually stays much longer—or if maybe it's just that Kaito's been struggling with distance so badly he's lost track of time. But Ryoga doesn't step out, isn't even wearing shoes; he just sticks his head out into the night air and looks this way and that, frowning, and upon finding no one there—and why would there be, no bell rang, no one even knocked—Ryoga retreats back inside.

"Hey!" Kaito calls out, shaking himself of his stupor, and unsurprisingly Ryoga doesn't hear him, but at least Kaito can scurry after him into the house. He's entirely nonplussed at the coincidental nature of the situation, but, hey, he's not _complaining_, because he finally _makes it inside_, and that's progress. Now he just has to work on getting someone's attention, which shouldn't be too hard with all the ruckus that goes on in Yuma's house... right?

The first time Kaito came to Yuma's, he was thrown off a little. Haruto'd told him about it before; about how it reminded him of their home in the woods and about how it smelled nice and how they had delicious food and a comfortable sofa, about how Yuma had two bedrooms filled with trinkets and treasures, about how it felt like an adventure just to be there. Kaito'd nodded and smiled, imagined the perpetual mess the place must always be in, imagined Yuma's room something like the old storage closet of a museum he'd broken into once on a Numbers hunt. But when they got there, when Haruto excitedly ran up to the entrance and rang the bell and rocked back and forth on his feet in excitement; when Yuma's sister opened the door and Kaito sort of stared at her, not really sure what exactly to say until she smiled wide and ushered them in and she had Yuma's smile, so it brought him a little closer to his comfort zone and familiar territory; when Kaito walked into the living room and saw Yuma's grandmother and his couch and his stairs and his kitchen, all the furniture and the pillows and the invitingness of it all... Something inside of him was overwhelmed. Something inside his heart started to freeze and maybe his eyes started to water, and when Haruto looked up with a grin to see his brother's reaction to his friend's home and he noticed something was wrong and he asked if he was okay, Kaito had to swallow and nod and ask where the bathroom was.

And so he... got a little emotional, wiped his face on his sleeve and gripped the sink and stared at the reddening face that was his reflection, recalled the vaguest of stupid memories and wondered what was wrong with him and—and—okay, maybe he smiled a little, biting down on his cheek so that he wouldn't smile _a lot_, because he—well, he didn't need to explain it to _himself_, did he? Just because Yuma is—and Ryoga—and right then, the person he'd become—

…In the end, it is more than a little embarrassing how much he likes it here, whether he admits it to anyone else or not.

Presently, there are only two occupants in Yuma's living room, and curiously enough, Yuma isn't one of them. When Ryoga shuts the door behind him and crosses his arms to his chest, he glares accusingly in Astral's direction, and his voice betraying a hint of irritation that Kaito can't help but roll his eyes at, Ryoga says, "No one was there. You sure you're not just sensing Shark Drake?"

Astral, who's floating just above the couch, turns to Ryoga from the TV, face muted. "Yes," he says, because he's sure, and his eyes trail back toward the door. "I am certain of it. There was a powerful duelist just outside of the door, although I do not sense them there any longer."

Ryoga shrugs, taking a seat on the sofa and leans back, resting his head in his arms. "Well, I didn't see anyone. Unless your powerful duelist is invisible."

Ryoga's joking, but Astral seems to consider that, and Kaito wonders if Astral will hear him if he shouts from this level, or if he's big enough that should he walk around in Ryoga's peripheral vision, Ryoga will notice—after all, Kaito's at least the size of a kitten, and kittens, he thinks, are noticeable. He has another stroke of luck then: as Kaito considers what to do, Astral takes to scanning the room curiously, and his eyes fall on the small figure standing remotely outside the door.

"Kaito?" Astral asks, and he tilts his head to the side.

Ryoga, who has taken to resting his eyes like the old man his fourteen-year-old self pretends to be, is nonplussed. "What about him?"

But Astral doesn't respond, opting instead to float over to Kaito, and the sound of his movement stirs Ryoga.

"What are you doing now?"

For the second time, Astral doesn't answer Ryoga's question; rather, he sticks his face in front of Kaito's, his heterochromatic eyes large and bright, and Kaito instinctively backs up a bit before realizing what he's doing, and then Kaito humphs and folds his arms to his chest and it might look like he's pouting but he's totally not. Astral nods. "It is you. But you are..."

"...Shrunk," Kaito confirms, slumping his shoulders, and he's getting more mortified by the second, even if it's a relief to finally be seen. Ryoga walks over then, his face scrunched up and his eyes confused, still asking Astral what he's looking at, and when Astral moves to the side a little to give him a plain view of Kaito, Ryoga blinks down at him. Says, "Oh," his lips twitching.

And at the glare that swiftly follows, Ryoga bursts into a fit of laughter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes:** ...I lost momentum for a bit there.

* * *

_Pocketful of Sunshine_

3

* * *

Yuma, it turns out, was in the bathroom. Kaito's first thought upon hearing this is that he's glad, because, he decides, if Yuma laughed anywhere near as much as Ryoga did, he might've peed his pants.

Actually, Kaito doesn't think Ryoga's incessant laughter is all that warranted. He points that out.

"Of course you don't," Ryoga responds, and content with his joke, he doesn't say anything more. Kaito has some choice words to shoot back at Ryoga's smirking face, but the words are quickly wiped from his mind, as that's when Yuma makes his grand appearance.

His voice arrives before the rest of him, yelling in his pajamas about how Shark better not have started the movie without him again, how he's not going to talk to him for two whole days if he did, about how just because Shark seemingly doesn't need to pee ever doesn't mean that everyone else is the same. The three of them are far too used to Yuma's crudeness by now, else there might be a collective wince or sigh; instead, when Yuma skids into the room on the ends of his socks, still zipping up his fly, none of them show a real reaction other than turning to face him.

"What?!" Yuma asks haughtily at the looks he receives from Astral and from Ryoga, who glances from Yuma's face to his fly and back again before slowly starting to shake his head. Yuma looks offended. "You started without me last time!"

"We rewinded last time," Ryoga reminds him coolly, and Yuma looks like he wants to retaliate with something, but he can't seem to find it. He grumbles and refocuses his energy into turning on Astral, who's still watching Kaito with avid interest.

"And what're _you_ looking at?" Yuma demands of him, pointing an accusatory finger.

Astral looks to Yuma and says, "Kaito is here," and it's less like an answer and more like a statement of fact, which, well, it _is_ a statement of fact, but Yuma obviously doesn't know that, so he looks from Ryoga's right to Astral's left to behind himself and back again, bewildered. "Huh? Where? What're you blabbing about?"

At that, Ryoga smirks and turns to face Kaito, who immediately begins his protests; Ryoga ignores them and plucks him up from the floor, then dangles him in front of Yuma's face, snickering. Kaito struggles in the air, valiantly attempting an escape from Ryoga's grip—but then he spots the floor and how far below it is, and upon the realization that he doesn't actually fancy a fall from this height, thank you, Kaito sighs and gives up and slackens, defeated.

Yuma's eyes cross trying to focus on him, and Kaito gets a close-up of Yuma's face with which he is rather uncomfortable.

"Whoa," says Yuma, squinting and poking at Kaito's stomach experimentally, to which Kaito makes a face and tries to pull back (neither Yuma nor Ryoga seem to notice his uneasiness). "Kaito! Is that really you?!" Yuma exclaims, and he's so close and his voice is loud that it hurts, and Kaito puts his hands to his ears to block out the sound. "Yeesh," Yuma continues, poking at him further, "how'd you get so small? And why's your hair all messed up?"

Kaito says tiredly, "Put me down." Embedded within his words to Yuma might even be some imploring—a silent hope that Yuma save him from Ryoga's harassment.

Yuma puts his hands together flat and proffers them below Kaito, and Ryoga sets him in the hollow. Kaito is glad for solidness beneath his feet again, but he folds his arms and glares at the countertop next to Yuma where he was hoping to be set instead, because in Kaito's world, "in Yuma's hands" is not an acceptable definition of "down".

"Whoa," says Yuma again, blinking at him, and seriously, does Yuma not have any other expression of surprise or what? "You're all wet."

"It was raining," Kaito says, and his body helpfully decides that now is the perfect time for a sneeze.

Ryoga snorts. "Cute."

Kaito refuses to dignify that with a response. Instead, he points out to Yuma: "You still haven't put me down."

"Hey, jerk, I asked first! How'd you get so small?"

Kaito grits his teeth. "I'll jump to the counter, Yuma."

Yuma makes a stupid face at that, but he obligingly lowers his hands so that Kaito can step off onto the counter in a totally dignified manner. There, Kaito takes off his jacket, because, fine, Yuma's right: it's wet, and by extension it's heavy and it's cold, and lacking something to drape it over, Kaito spreads it out on the counter to dry. Three pairs of eyes follow his every movement, but Kaito is in no way uncomfortable under their scrutiny—he's just annoyed. Jacket set, he puts his head up and refuses to meet any of their gazes, shakes his head free of the rain water (his hair falls sadly around him, worse than before), crosses his arms and finally glares at Astral, because Ryoga and Yuma are only going to make him increasingly furious with every word they say and every face they make.

As immediate proof, Ryoga offers Kaito a napkin, the corners of his mouth twisted upward. Kaito scowls and snatches it to dry himself off, like it's some sort of obscenely huge towel. The material is different, of course, and it rips right away, but it sort of does the job, and Kaito has enough experience ignoring Gauche's shaking shoulders to do the same for Ryoga.

When he's finished, he tosses it aside, and Astral, Ryoga, and Yuma are still watching him, are still silent.

Kaito sighs.

"It was a duel, naturally," he begins, and his audience of three is instantly intrigued, ready for a tale to support the joke that his life is right now, but Kaito's got some news for them: he isn't a very good storyteller—to that Haruto can testify—but even if he was, they're not about to get a story out of him. He tells them the facts of what happened and he tells it point blank, abridging parts that aren't necessary: he doesn't tell them about Haruto or the caramel, just that he was out and ran into someone, mysterious, masked, equipped with an okay deck but an incompetent playing style; that the stranger activated a spell card at Kaito's final attack; that it was Shrink; that it—well, shrank him. He admits begrudgingly that while he was knocked back, the man ran away, and his words coming out faster and his voice getting quieter, he goes on about how home is too far away, so here he is now and-so-yeah-do-you-know-anything-about-this-guy?

He looks through Astral and to something in the vague distance as he tells it; only when he's done does he meet eyes again. Yuma is completely intrigued, his eyes bright as he takes in Kaito's words; Ryoga's brow is furrowed as he, too, thinks it over (and Kaito almost warns him not to hurt himself); and, of course, Astral is also contemplative as he attempts to extract any information that might be useful to him.

"Well," says Ryoga, "I don't recognize him from your description. Who'd you piss off lately?" It's a legitimate question, but there's something about his tone that makes Kaito want to tell Ryoga to piss off, but he restrains himself, as he often does, because that's when Yuma speaks, and Yuma is more concerned with the effect than the person.

"So now what?" he asks, sticking his head in close to get another look at Kaito, "How do you get back to normal?"

Kaito shakes his head and takes a few steps back. "I don't know."

"The effect of Shrink only lasts until the end of the turn it is played," Astral points out. "Perhaps it will wear off."

"What," says Kaito, who can only take the _end of his turn_ outside of a duel to mean one thing, "when I die?" He crosses his arms again and scowls. "That's helpful."

"Shame you didn't see his face," Ryoga says. "Could've gone after him and beaten a solution out of him."

"Shame," repeats Kaito, not looking at Ryoga, and he sighs the sigh he reserves just for the two of them and for Gauche, the implicit _you're an idiot, aren't you_, hanging in the air. Ryoga doesn't seem to catch it, though, which doesn't happen very often, but Kaito's not really on his game today as it is, so whatever.

He looks down for a moment to think. There's got to be a solution here somewhere, and if he closes his eyes and tries to remember maybe an important detail will come back to him, something distinguishing about the whole situation—and Kaito snaps his fingers as he reaches the realization. "The data. It should be logged in my Gazer," and he reaches for the gear and—oh. Right. He _would_ reach for the gear, except that there's a sinking feeling as he remembers: "...My Gazer's shot."

But the data should still be in the system, shouldn't it, and Kaito's got a back-up...

He turns to Yuma. "Can you contact Orbital?"

Yuma blinks, nods, and pulls out his D-Gazer. "Um, just calling you should do it, right?" Kaito nods in confirmation, and Yuma dials it up, moves to give the Gazer to Kaito—who glares at him because, yeah, no, he can't actually hold it—and then awkwardly positions himself so he's kneeling at the edge of the counter, the Gazer level with him and Kaito. Orbital answers almost immediately, but he's running around in a panic so he doesn't actually look at the screen, just shouts out an angry, "Foolma! Now isn't the time, Kaito-sama is—"

"Yeah!" says Yuma, "I know. He's—"

"—busy, so whatever trivial matters you want to trouble him with—"

"Actually, Orbital, he's right here—"

"—doesn't have time to—"

"Orbital!" Kaito shouts then, and it's loud enough to get the robot at attention, to make him stop and flinch and actually look at the screen. Yuma angles the Gazer so it's focused on Kaito, and the servant seems to shrink into a corner, spluttering, "K-K-K-Kaito-sama! You're—"

"I'm aware," Kaito snaps. "As I'm sure you're aware that my D-Tech is down." Orbital looks like he has a response, maybe a choked nod, but Kaito doesn't leave time even for that. "Search through the data immediately. I want the name of the last person with whom I dueled."

"R-Right!" says Orbital, and he plugs himself into the computer, does a few calculations while they watch him, Kaito tapping his feet impatiently, something which is less due to actual impatience and more due to the fact that _appearing_ impatient is what gets Orbital to do things quickly, albeit, it seems, when Orbital announces the information retrieved, not so efficiently: "It appears the duelist was anonymous."

"Nothing is anonymous," says Kaito, which is code for _check the city's database if you have to_, because nothing is secret, every single duel that takes place is logged, underground or not. Orbital takes the order with a nod and another stammer, but after a second or so he says it'll take some time, to which Kaito wonders if he's positive, and Orbital squeaks that he is, it'll take some combing. Kaito sighs and tells him to get to work immediately, he'll be there in a minute, and the connection is cut.

...Wait.

He won't be there in a minute, will he, and Ryoga and Astral and Yuma stare at him, and Ryoga slowly grins again as it registers, and Kaito should like to shrink him down to size and fight him, might even be about to yell it at him when Yuma cuts in excitedly, as he is wont to do, "Oh, oh, do you need to get back to Heartland? Do you want us to take you?" And, well, no—he _doesn't_ want them to take him, and he's here and all but he doesn't want all that much of their help—but as it stands, he doesn't really have a choice, does he?

So he frowns. "Yuma..." he starts, and before he can say another word Yuma jets up the stairs to get changed for this new mission, and Kaito grumbles about it some more as Ryoga goes to clear up the room by dusting crumbs on the sofa to the floor and turning off the movie. Kaito decides to put his jacket on again; he touches it experimentally and it's still damp, but he pulls it on anyway, whatever, it's not like it's going to make anything much worse than it already is. Ryoga comes back once he's done, presumably to mock Kaito some more, but instead of cracking a joke at Kaito's expense he just holds out a hand for Kaito to step onto, which Kaito eyes warily, so Ryoga prompts, "What, you want Yuma to hold you instead?"

And... well, he has a point, doesn't he, so Kaito steps on. "But don't expect me to put you on my shoulder or anything, Thumbelina."

Kaito briefly considers biting him. But that would be juvenile.

Speaking of, where's—

"And where do you think _you're_ going?" comes a voice from upstairs suddenly, and, whoa, hey, Kaito totally forgot that Yuma even has a sister, let alone one so loud; Yuma lets out a holler, one of the big, elongated whiny ones that somehow gets worse in the comfort of his own home, and it's accompanied with, "Neeeeeeechan!", and Kaito looks to Ryoga for an answer, but he doesn't really have one, just sort of shrugs. There's some less audible yelling from upstairs then, the two of them straining their ears to listen, and then there's silence, and finally someone trudging down the stairs, and Yuma appears, making a face behind him.

"Neechan says she's had it with me leaving in the middle of the night without her knowing and if it's not for something important I can't," he says, drooping. "I told her it's super important but she didn't believe me so I guess you two can go and I'll catch you later."

Kaito and Ryoga share a look for a moment, one of those looks that has everything to do with Yuma and both of their care for him, and where it sits on their priorities; Kaito almost twitches, but then he forces himself to shrug, and following his lead Ryoga sighs, a long, dramatic thing, before setting Kaito back on the counter. "Pfft," he says, "like hell I'm taking this guy anywhere alone."

It only serves to make Yuma look upset, and _god_, what did Kaito even do to get Yuma to care about him so much? "But Shark!"

"It's... fine," murmurs Kaito, folding his arms, which is a mistake because cold so he sets them to his sides again, and damn it all if it wasn't so urgent that he track down the culprit, Kaito'd just call Orbital to come get him.

"Is it... really?" asks Yuma, tilting his head, and there's a glimmer in it as he realizes what Kaito might be insinuating, and then—

"Yeah, just... if this doesn't wear off by then, first thing in the morning—"

And Yuma's face lights up so bright it's almost blinding, and Kaito thinks he might just have agreed to a sleepover.


End file.
